


The Circle of Life

by Linorien



Series: 007 Fest 2016 [4]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies), James Bond - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, q is a boss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-07-22 04:10:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7419229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Linorien/pseuds/Linorien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The most common cause of death for a Double-oh agent is poison and Q has finally developed something to combat this. But not every agent is on board. And believe me, Q isn't going to let that stand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Circle of Life

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the chat while watching Casino Royale.   
> Also another bingo item down, prompt: believe me.
> 
> Not beta'd so do forgive any mistakes.

[ ](http://imgur.com/JF3NYDd)

Q stood behind his desk in the command centre with tears gently rolling down his cheeks. Despite this, his voice was steady as he spoke with 002 over his headset. 

“Try to stay calm, lower your heart rate,” Q instructed. “That will reduce the spread of the poison. The local authorities are on their way. They will help you.”

“It will be too late, Q,” the agent wheezed. “You know that as well as I do.” Q didn't have anything to say in response. The ambulance was more than fifteen minutes away and the smart blood program displaying 002’s vitals told Q she would be dead within five. “Q?”

“Yes agent?”

“Can you switch me to the private line?”

“Of course.” Q hit the key. “Just you and me now.”

“There's a file on my account called student loans. Open it later and distribute it as you see fit.”

“Will do, Carter.”

“Thanks.”

“Anytime.” There was another stretch of silence and the breathing over the line sounded more strained. “Anything more I can do for you?” Q asked softly. 

“Music,” was the breathy reply. The Quartermaster quickly pulled up what he knew to be 002’s favourite song and played it over the line and in the branch. 

_ Cause it's the circle of life. _

Q watched the heart rate drop. 

_ And it rules us all.  _

Then there was no more. 

_ Through despair and hope.  _

Q let the chorus finish before fading out the song. The rest of the branch began closing up what loose ends they could of the mission. Someone else would have to be sent out to finish the last part, but that was not up to them. Q, instead, swore a vow to his branch. He would make damn sure none of his agents would be poisoned like that again. 

***

It took nearly eight months and then an additional two for final testing, but Q branch finally engineered a discrete way to test for poison. The double ohs were quick to adopt it. Being the best of the best meant that sometimes poison was the best way to defeat them. A chance of death that Q now slimmed. 

But for some of the agents who were more likely to meet their deaths at the hands of a bullet, they resisted. 

The worst was Agent Nathan Gale. 

Twenty-five years of age, been an agent for five of those, Agent Gale thought he was the creme of the crop. He believed he would be the next one promoted when a double oh died. He spent every moment at headquarters trying to prove how manly he was. And so he believed he did not need Q’s invention. 

“I won't be seen wearing nail polish of any sort!” He complained loudly when Jasmine was outfitting him for his next mission. “I want to speak with Q about this.” 

“He’s in his office. But he didn't want to be disturbed,” the minion called after him. It made no difference. He stomped in and launched into his long complaint to Q. Not noticing until the end that he had interrupted a meeting with 007. The double oh looked ready to punch him, but Q placated the man. 

“I'm terribly sorry you feel that way Agent Gale,” he said. “But if you feel like you have no need for the poison polish then I shall give it to another agent. Better for my budget after all.” The young agent handed over the bottle with a smile, happy that Q was so understanding. 

***

The mission went off without a hitch and the man made sure everyone in the building knew that he survived just fine without a special nail polish. It was a sore point in Q branch. The Double-ohs wanted to physically knock some sense into him, but Q told them to back off. 

Two weeks later saw Agent Gale recounting his tale of the mission to some agents in training over lunch. He took a long swig of his drink and continued elaborating on the beautiful women he scored and the fast cars he drove. Every twist and turn came with the addendum that he was not poisoned; he didn’t need the silly nail polish.

“But the double-ohs all wear it without complaint,” one of the trainees finally mentioned. 

“That’s because they all are fawning over that upstart in Q branch in the hopes that he will give them a new toy. It’s pathetic. They shouldn’t need to rely on him.” He leaned forward and took a deep breath, as if to impart a big life lesson. “Out there in the real world, it is every agent for himself. No need to rely on anyone back here, especially not those boffins in the basement. What do they know of the real world.” He leaned back and coughed.

The trainees exchanged glances. As a part of their training, Q had been in charge of them for a week, and they knew enough to recognise that he was not a sheltered nerd. Any notion of that had been quickly crushed on the training floor. 

Agent Gale loosened his collar slightly. “Well, I’d say it’s rather warm in here, why don’t we continue lunch on the patio?” He stood, but had to steady himself on the table. He suddenly didn’t seem quite as stable as before. He took another swig of his drink and staggered outside, the trainees following hesitantly behind. He collapsed in the nearest chair, almost slamming down his glass and immediately unbuttoned his top button of his shirt. 

“Feeling a little off, Agent Gale?” a voice asked from the shadow of the building.

“Who’s there?” Gale whipped out his gun and shakily pointed it in the direction of the building.

“Oh, just the little upstart in Q branch.” The Quartermaster stepped out into the light. A deadly expression painted across his face. “No one to worry about.”

“What are you doing here? Don’t you have computer games to be playing?”

“Not today. Today I thought I might test out one of my inventions.” Q stalked closer to the agent, his dark suit added an extra element of danger, reminiscent of the double-ohs. “It’s gotten plenty of field testing, but I decided it ought to be tested locally as well.” He reached out with one hand to divest the agent of his gun and tuck it into his own holster. “Much better.”

Q turned to the trainees now. “I’m sure you lot have all heard about the poison detector I have engineered. But you have not seen it in action. Allow me to demonstrate.” He pulled out a small glass vial of a clear liquid and held it up. “This clear polish applies easily to your nails and will chemically react with most poisons. There are a couple different colour reactions that may further help to identify the poison. Who would like to test it out? Mister Thompson?” 

The trainee nodded and held out his hands for the bottle. Q reassured him that it does not need to be neat, merely on one’s nail. Q ignored the wheezing from beside him.

“Now, all you have to do, is stick it in the substance you suspect of poison. No need to keep it in there long. How about,” Q pretended to look about. “How about this glass right here?” He picked up Agent Gale’s drink and passed it to the trainee who obediently stuck his finger in the glass. He pulled it out and it quickly changed to a light green colour.

The trainees gasped. “What does green mean?” 

“Arsenic. Light traces only, but I suppose I should give him the antidote.” Q whirled around and stabbed the needle with the antidote into the agent’s neck without remorse. His breathing immediately began to even out. “Believe me when I say this was for your own good.” The agent tried to retort, but his eyes fluttered shut before he could. “He ought to be fine now, but he may still benefit from medical. If you would be so kind, I do have things that need doing besides teaching lessons to imbeciles.”


End file.
